


lost in translation.

by orphan_account



Series: tumblr requests. [118]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sharing a Bed, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Could you write a mclennonfic where john and paul (just mates) are sleeping on the same bed (maybe in hamburg or something) and john convinces paul to cuddle with him while they sleep? Please and thank you so much! 😊”
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: tumblr requests. [118]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1336198
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	lost in translation.

1961,

Autumn in Paris was cold. Dreadfully so. It hadn’t been unexpected but Paul had had the small of it being warmer than Liverpool because… well, they had gone further south, hadn’t they? Yet, here stood Paul in a dingy little hotel somewhere in Paris with his arms wrapped tightly as he watched John in silence. John was talking animatedly with the desk clerk, arms waving about as he talked with much anger in a broken mix of poor french and Liverpudlian english. The Frenchman staunch and unyielding in his refusal to utter a single word of English.

“Two!” yelled John and pointed to himself and Paul, “ _deux_ beds! Beds!” He pointed two fingers at the stoic man, who only muttered something under his breath that neither of the Englishmen could understand. John looked to Paul in a mix of frustration and confusion over the ordeal but Paul found himself empty of responses and merely shrugged at his good friends trial. He had figured out many minutes prior that he would be even less help in translating and had resigned himself to stand near the entrance, and potential means of escape, watching the stranger quietly stare him and his friend down. 

Finally, after a forceful trust of francs and a point towards the sign behind him indicating the price of a room, the Frenchman relented with a whisper of “ _va te faireenculer_ ” and a key with a small note of the room number strapped to it. “Fucking finally,” John muttered harshly under his breath and stormed off with Paul close behind him. “ _Merci_ ,” Paul yelled over his shoulder as they disappeared up the creaking staircase.

It didn’t take long for them to find their room- it was a miniature of a hotel, dumped right in the middle of Paris among much larger and exciting buildings. But it worked out for them and John, having now relaxed, smiled widely and relaxed at Paul as he opened the door to their room. Both were exhausted and itching to get some much-needed rest. But their hopes of restful slumber harshly dashed as they opened their eyes wide to the tiny room. There was only one bed! “Bloody, fucking,” John grumbled and turned to leave when Paul stopped him with a deep sigh.

“Let’s not-” he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, “let’s just figure something out and _sleep_.”

John looked at him thoughtfully and slowly nodded with the door closing close behind him. John fidgeted with his jacket and watched as Paul got rid of shoes, sighing at the cold air on his feet that was finally released from their tight confines. “...We have shared a bed before, John,” Paul reminded his friend with a lazy smile, hosting himself up on the flat bed- regretting taking off his shirt and trousers as the cool climate finally hit him. “F-Fuck,” he wheezed as his body had a hard time adjusting to the hard bed and freezing blankets. 

John didn’t fare any better; getting the same treatment from the bed as Paul had as he laid down next time him, leaving a wide space between them. “So much for the luxury of the French, eh?,” he joked, attempting to distract himself from the biting chill. Paul huffed in a poor attempt at laughing. “Say, P-Paul,” John started looking down at Paul’s hands, intertwined with each other, growing various shades of pink and red. “I know how we can stay warm…”

“R-Really?”

John gulped and tried to relax his fast beating heart. It was nothing! A simple innocent question! His heart needed to calm the fuck down! 

“Y-Yeah, we can… we can… cuddle _for warmth_.”

“Oh,” Paul took a pause to watch John’s face carefully. He seemed nervous, anxious, about the anticipated answer. “We… we can do that. _For warmth_.” He smiled, rather slyly, and watched as John’s face softened with a soft smile of his own. “Yes, _for warmth_ , “ he repeated as he closed the space between them. 


End file.
